


Another

by TMS33



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Betrayal, Dimension Travel, F/M, Female Harry Potter, Master of Death Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2019-10-09 18:57:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17412392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TMS33/pseuds/TMS33
Summary: Harry wakes up in a new world with superheroes and technology beyond her understanding. Being the young hero that she is, she does what any magical school dropout/retired Savior of the Wizarding World would do: she opens a café.





	1. Goodbye, everyone

**Author's Note:**

> How it all began...
> 
>  
> 
>  

 The skies were crying when she made her last stand against the Ministry. It was strange, living in continuous paranoia with them constantly at her back, either treating her like she was some goddess incarnate or a monster who needed to be put down. She lived a constant pattern of either being paraded or hunted. And as she stood surrounded by dozens of aurors in King Cross Station, she supposed it was only a matter of time before the cycle finally restarted once again.  

“Surrender, Harry! There’s nowhere for you to go!” Her eyes flicked over to the figure standing at the center of the group. The newly appointed Director of Law Enforcement, she recalled, having read it from the Prophet a few days ago. While she was happy for her old schoolmate, it felt strange having them chase after her. 

“Hello, Dean. Back at it again?” She casually asked, trying to put up an unnerved front with nearly a dozen wands pointed at her. 

“You know me, Harry.” He said, a smile forming on his lips from their inside joke. Just when she thought she could get away with a few well-placed words, Dean’s eyes sharpened and his smile disappeared. “We don’t have to do this.” 

She shrugged. “Perhaps not. But I’d rather not go back to the Ministry with you until a few more years. When are elections again?”

At the insult, one of the aurors who was somewhere off to the side of the ring suddenly shouted, “Don’t you dare insult the Prime Minister!” 

She barely gave the angry auror a glance. Dean sighed before reprimanding him. “Silence, Abernathy.”

Harry nearly did a double take, now curious, her eyes wandering over to the clearly new recruit in their ranks. “Is this Philip’s grandson?” 

Dean nodded. She couldn’t help but laugh, recognizing the blazing blue eyes that her friend’s grandson seemed to inherit. “How is the old man?” She asked, turning to face the now red-faced auror. 

Abernathy (junior) seethed, wand sparking at the tip. “How dare you–“ 

Before Philip could finish, Dean silenced him with a raise of his hand. She pursed her lips, deflating a bit when they didn’t seem as willing to talk this out.

”Harry, please don’t make me do this.”

Brushing away her disappointment, she instead gave him a sad smile, unable to unsee the desperation and guilt in his eyes. It reminded her of the war, only this time, she and Dean were on different sides. She shook her head, “Let’s do it for old time’s sake, yeah?” 

Without giving him a second to prepare himself, she brandished her wand, seemingly having pulled it out of thin air. Pointing at the ground between them, she shouted,  _“Protego!”_

* * *

 

Five hours in, she knew something was wrong. Hunts never really lasted this long. The longest she’s ever been through had been three hours, and the only reason it had lasted so long was because she had spent nearly an hour conversing with the aurors before actually fighting. Annoyed, she tried activating the galleon portkey in her pocket again, only to get no reaction.

‘Bloody portkeys. Just when you need them the most…’ she thought, frustrated. At this point, she was tempted to just throw the coin at the wall, but she didn’t want to risk giving away her location.

The building was nearly about to fall apart by the end of their battle. Not that it was much of a battle to begin with. Most of it was just spent with her running around the broken down warehouse, leading aurors into traps she had already laid all over the place hours before they came. With only two aurors left standing and still capable of battle, there wasn’t much for her to do other than face them. Hiding behind a charred wall, barely standing after a round of stray spells going at its foundation, she began searching for the wards that were keeping her in the building, trapped. 

“Revelio,” she whispered, waving her wand over the floor where it met the wall. Immediately, a line of golden runes lit up. It was quite short, but the intent behind it was large. The script seemed to travel all around the area, surrounding the entire building. If her readings were correct, no one would be able to leave or enter the area unless they had the express permission or a portkey made by the caster of said runes. Apparition, it seemed, was also a no-go. Eyes barely catching the end of the it, she realized that the runes seemed explosive as well, but she wasn’t sure as to what extent.

For a moment, cold dread hit her as she recognized the work on the floor. While the ingenuity could have been attributed to any genius witch or wizard, the handwriting of the runes were scarily familiar. It was a neat scrawl that she had seen multiple times in school, the very same runes that she would read off one of her closest friend’s textbooks.

“Come out now, Harry! We know you’re still in here!” A voice echoed from behind her, pulling her out of her thoughts.

‘Fuck,’ she cursed, before clambering away from the source of the voice. It was close, much closer than she had expected. She didn’t think she was that predictable, but it seemed Dean’s team was getting better and better at tracking her.

‘Or perhaps it’s because Hermione has betrayed you too,’ a dark voice whispered in her mind. She let go of the thought, not willing to dwell on it any further. Some small part of her hoped that it was all in her head and that she was just being paranoid. She didn’t want to doubt one of her best friends, but there was no denying the evidence pointing at her.

Before she could put more thought into it, she instinctively ducked, barely dodging a spell that would have blown off her head. Without even thinking, she gave a quick glance and retaliated.

“Depulso!” She shouted, a force blasting from her wand, causing the auror behind her to fly through the two walls behind him. Without giving him time to recover, she immediately motioned for the ceiling between them to fall down, a billow of dust and rubble covering the entire hallway. By the time it cleared, she had already escaped to a floor down from the area.

If she was correct, and no back-up was capable of entering the area, the only ones left were her and Dean. Finding a window that connected to the main chamber, she dove under it before allowing her head to peek out so she could get a view of the room.

Standing in the center was Dean, alone amidst all the carnage of their hunt. He seemed to be staring determinedly at the only exit of the building, watching for any sign of movement near the area. She knew that if she attempted to make a run for it, he would take her down. Or at the very least attempt to do so. Had it not passed the five-hour mark, she would’ve actually tried, but there was no telling if he had any back-up waiting outside. She had allowed the hunt to prolong for too long, and the only way of getting out was by facing Dean.

She sighed tiredly, moving away from the window. She knew she could do this, but she was hesitant to truly face her friend. All this time, leading him on a goose chase had been in the hopes of escaping any fight. But now that she was running low on energy and time, there was nothing else left to do.

“It’s just you and me, Harry,” Dean suddenly shouted, as if having read her thoughts. “Let’s get it over with.”

Not moving from her spot, she took a few seconds to catch her breath. She had an image to maintain if she didn’t want them getting ahold of any of her weaknesses or flaws. With a quick flick of her wand, she had fixed herself a bit, ridding her arms and clothes of any lacerations and tears. Once she deemed herself slightly more presentable, she fixed her wand holster a bit before finally apparating and appearing twenty feet away from Dean.

“Dean,” she said, all the humor from before gone from her voice. She stood with her back straight, seemingly proud, despite the doubt and slight fear running through her mind.

“Harry.” His tired stare didn’t seem to fade despite finally landing on her. As they stared each other down, her back against her only chance of escape, she couldn’t help but notice the guilt in Dean’s eyes. “Please.  _Please_  don’t make me do this.”

Harry hummed, a sad smile splaying on her lips. “You know I won’t go willingly. Not while Flint is Minister.”

For a moment, Dean’s eyes seemed to glaze over, seeing something only he could see. “Not even for your friends?” 

Her eyes narrowed, zeroing in on Dean’s subtle change. Not wanting to show any sign of noticing, she gave a fake smile followed by an equally fake laugh. “You’re one to talk.”

“Touché.” Dean gave a flickering smile, one filled with sadness and fear. She was tempted to push him further, but then her eyes caught the slight movement of his hand. Eyes widening, she realized his smile and gaze was no longer aimed at her.

“Let them know I tried,” he said, eyes trained towards something behind her. “I really did.” Before she could question him or even turn to face whoever it had been he was talking to, the floor above him exploded.

“No!” She cried out, barely able to cast a quick shield charm around Dean as she felt the runes surrounding the building follow, collapsing and consequently causing the building to break down from the exposure to the blast. But just as her spell seemed to reach him, the falling debris covered him from view. A painful scream left her throat as she sensed his soul fade, realizing she was a second too late from saving him.

Fate, it seemed, truly hated her, not even giving her a moment to recuperate from her friend’s sudden death. Already, a large chunk of the roof nearly fell on her, forcing her to dive out of the way.

Fury coursed through her, and for a moment, all she wanted to do was hurt whoever it was that had taken Dean’s life. There was no doubt that whoever they were, they had some sort of link to the explosions going off around the building. She didn’t waste another moment, quickly turning to face whoever it was that he had been talking to. Wand ready, she nearly faltered when she was met with her two best friends standing at the entrance of the warehouse, wands trained at her.

Time seemed to slow as the three stared at each other. The entire building was bound to explode, based on her reading of the runes, but neither party showed any sign of noticing. It was just them and the horrible realization that whatever semblance of friendship they once had was destroyed. Staring at them resolutely, she slowly lowered her wand, unwilling to hurt them even after their betrayal.

Her movement made them jump, causing their determined appearance to turn into that of fear. But their fear, she thought, was misplaced. Back then, she never saw any reason to hurt them. The same could be said for this moment. Driven by this thought, she subtlety pointed her wand at the ground below her feet.

“I won’t let you destroy me,” she swore, a pain-filled smile creeping on her face. “Not you, not the ministry, or anyone else.”

At their confused countenances, her smile suddenly faded, and all that was left in her eyes was anger. An anger that seemed too deep and ancient on her youthful face. “The only person who will ever have that right is  _me._ ”

_“Bombarda Maxima!”_


	2. A whole new world

_January 1_ , she noted. It was uncanny, if not oddly fitting for her first steps in this world to have began on said day.

Huddled in some alley, with only a wand and a thick foul-smelling blanket around her shoulders, she was lost in a new world, in a new year alone. Based on the shouting of people screaming nearby, she assumed she was somewhere in Europe, but she couldn’t put a finger as to what region  she was currently in. Definitely not London, considering she couldn't understand half of what they were saying. It wasn’t cold, thank Merlin, but her ruined clothes did little to protect her from the damp cold of the empty alley. 

Already, she could feel her head pounding once more when she tried to remember the events an hour prior. It was more than just a blur. It was like all her senses were exploding at once, as if they had suddenly heightened to the point it gave her brain some sort of overload. In the light of the streets, she had been stumbling around blind, unable to see past the bright flashes. She could barely hear anything past the white noise she later realized was everyone and everything screaming at once. It wasn’t until she found her tiny dark alley that she was able to get a grasp of where she was. 

She was in an alley. She has a wand. She’s alone. She’s alive. As she repeated the mantra in her head, she couldn’t help but laugh at the last statement. It shouldn’t have been possible, but by the gods, she had survived. And at the hands of her best friends, no less. Not wanting to cry over the loss, she tried banishing the thought, letting out a strangled groan in hopes of relieving her frustration. 

Anger, she could work with. Anything else would have to wait for later. Not when she was still in such a vulnerable state. With that thought, she immediately got up, stumbling a bit when she noticed how shaky her legs were. Determined, she tried taking a few steps, ignoring how exhausted and weak she felt. If she could make it to the end of the alley, she could do anything. 

She'd already made it this far. A few more feet won’t stop her. 

* * *

_ April 9, 2015 _

Steve had just been walking when he spotted the strange shop. He didn't remember seeing it before he left for his mission last month. It was a small dainty building with brick walls and large windows covered by curtains, its glass door chained with a large padlock. He would've completely passed it had it not been located between some of the most technologically advanced buildings in the whole city, not including Stark Industries. It looked incredibly out of place beside the two large skyscrapers, yet despite its older (and slightly shabbier) appearance, no one seemed to give it a second glance.

_‘Soon to Open’,_ he read, barely understanding the messy handwriting.

Just as he was about to ponder more on the small building, his attention was suddenly pulled away as the SI phone Tony gave him rang for the umpteenth time, no doubt his AI calling with another mission.

“Captain Rogers. Mr. Stark asked me to inform you that he has found another Hydra base in Qingdao, China. The team leaves in half an hour so I requested for Mr. Hogan to pick you up.”

“Thanks, J.A.R.V.I.S.”

“It was no problem, Captain Rogers.”

* * *

_April 10, 2015_

She gave her small shop another sweep, excited to open the small bakery/café. She had been planning for almost a month now, and she couldn't be prouder with what her muggle labor accomplished in such a small timeframe.

Ever since she woke up in this strange world, she had avoided using any sort of magic when she first spotted the men outside her first residence. She had initially tried to find a permanent place in Britain, but said notion failed when men started appearing everywhere she went, watching her every move. It was with a quick burst of magic, a bit of roughhousing and peek at one of her attacker’s thoughts that she found out about the elusive S.H.I.E.L.D. They had spotted her summoning a fallen coin which rolled under a heavy dumpster after playing with it on the way back to her temporary abode. Despite her minor mistake, it was enough to garner the attention of one of the most feared intelligence organizations in the world. She immediately obliviated the man and disappeared of the face of the earth with her belongings in tow, leaving behind an empty apartment with nothing butthe coin which caused her mishap in the first place.

She then apparated to New York, and took shelter under a kind old lady who was trying to save her building from nosy contractors trying to turn it into one of the taller glass towers she called  _skyscrapers._ They had immediately clicked due to both of them originating from the same country, leading her to buy the red building with the promise that she would not harm the original foundation nor sell it to someone with thoughts to do so. After the deal was struck, the lady moved to an elderly home, saying her old age was getting to her and that her family insisted out of their worry for her. With the promise to visit at least every few Sundays, the old woman left her the deed of the building and a umbrella, saying it was better to be prepared than risk getting drenched despite the clear weather. Not questioning her logic, she accepted both with an open smile and handed her over to her niece who was waiting outside.

She had been using as little magic as possible ever since her mishap got caught on tape, going as far as to hide her wand in her boot and her invisibility cloak in her charmed pouch. All heavy lifting and excessive labor done to bring up her fine establishment had taken muggle sweat, blood and tears. She was somewhat used to it, after spending her whole childhood catering to the Dursley’s, but menial chores in a house were nothing compared to the painting, planning, and stressful meetings she had to do to make sure the store was decently sized and well equipped to handle future customers.

“Hey, Harry! Where do you want me to put the speakers?”

“Just give me a second, Peter! I’ll be right with you!” she hollered, dropping the box she was carrying on her new desk. 

She exited the manager’s office only to see Peter standing on the ladder with both speakers clutched in his arms. Wearing a pair of faded blue jeans, a white t-shirt and some sneakers, he looked like one of those typical teenagers she had seen in magazines. Despite the large size and heavy load, the young high-school student remained perfectly balanced and actually seemed quite relaxed for someone so high up.

“Peter!” she exclaimed worriedly. “Get down from there! You’re going to hurt yourself!”

“Sorry, Harry,” he replied, laughing as she reached out for one of the speakers.

She found Peter last week when she had gotten lost looking for her plumber’s shop somewhere in Queens. He was kind enough to lead the way, and not passing on the golden opportunity, she offered him work which he graciously accepted. It worked out perfectly for the both of them, seeing as he needed both a closer location to the city’s centre and some money for a surprise for his aunt. They had been working on the shop for almost a week, and the only thing left to do was install the sound system and decor.

“I swear, you Americans have no sense of self-preservation!” she grumbled as she helped the high-schooler get down. She quickly took the large speakers from his arms, allowing him to use his now-free hand to get back down. “I turn my back for just one minute, and you almost get yourself killed from something so  _stupid_. ‘How did Mr. Parker die?’ Oh, he fell from a bloody  _ladder_!’”

“It’s not that high-up.” Peter pointed out, the sheepish smile never leaving his face.

“Still!”

Muggles were crazy. Sure, they were brilliant too–she’s seen that Stark man fly in a suit on the telly, and she still couldn’t process how  _that_ was bloody possible without magic–but their very inventions were a also danger to themselves. Ladders could easily fall due to lack of stability. Cars were built big and powerful enough to run someone over if the driver wasn't careful. Even their pens could poke a hole in someone’s eye if they weren't watching! At least quills could only give a good scratch at the most. 

But then again, she studied in a castle where moving staircases could lead to your death and teachers served detentions in a forest full of who-knows-what.

“You remind me of Aunt May sometimes, you know. She worries a lot too.” He pointed out, both feet now back on the ground.

Harry snorted before grabbing the other set of speakers from him. “Someone has to. Your Aunt must get a heart attack every time you leave the house if you end up in this sort of trouble all the time.”

Peter muttered, “You have no idea.” It was only when both his feet were safely on the ground that her shoulders relaxed.

Sighing at his dangerous tendencies, she placed the speaker down on one of the nearby tables. “We’ll finish this tomorrow. The lamps won’t be arriving until later today, and I would rather work on anything that has to do with that  _bloody ladder_ on a later date.”

“So when are you going to open?” he asked, trying to change the topic.

She smiled, taking another proud glance at the shop. “The day after tomorrow, I hope. I’ve been handing out flyers already, and I’m praying I at least get a few stragglers on the first day.”

“Are you sure you don’t need help handling the place? I can come by after school and on weekends to work a few hours,” he suggested, worried about her plan to handle the whole shop on her own. Shops in the center of New York were never handled alone for a good reason. The rush hours have been known to break even the toughest of servers. Harry  _needed_  his help, even though she wouldn’t admit it.

She shook her head, noising her disagreement. “I can’t have you missing school on me, Pete. You’ve got a whole future ahead of you.”

“I can do Friday’s and Saturday’s, no sweat,” he countered, trying to change her mind. “Trust me, Harry. Mornings are the worst. You’re going to need all the help you can get.”

“I can hire some guys to do the bulk of the work,” she pointed out.

“In time for Friday’s opening? Not a chance. You’d still need to train them for all the stuff you’ve got back there, and no one knows what goes one back there as well as the two of us do.” He retorted.

“I-“

“Come on, Harry. Trust me on this one! You wouldn’t believe how crazy it can get here in New York.”

She sighed resignedly at his dorky, yet reasonable explanation. “Friday afternoons and Saturday.  _Only_. And if I hear anything about your grades dropping, I’m suspending you from work  _indefinitely._ ”

He grinned. “Deal.”

She groaned, rubbing her forehead, “I can’t believe I just hired a kid.”

“I’m fifteen” he retorted, grinning boyishly. 

She hummed, not falling prey to his dorky exterior, “still a kid.”

“I’m getting paid for this, right?” he asked, trying to hide the hopeful look as he waited for his answer.

“Yes, Peter. You’re getting the full deal. 13 dollars an hour.” She rolled her eyes. “Now go home. Your aunt would murder me if I kept you past your curfew.”

He cheered at her acceptance and the prospect of money, “I can’t wait to tell Aunt May! She’s never going to believe this!”

“Kids,” she grumbled to herself. “Now shoo! And take these with you!” she said, reaching inside her pocket for an envelope with his pay and a nearby paper bag with a few freshly baked muffins inside.

Quickly grabbing his backpack from a newly table, he then accepted the gifts gratefully and zoomed past her, headed for the front door. “Thanks, Harry! You won’t regret this!” he called back, pushing the glass door open with his shoulder.

“I hope I don’t,” she mumbled, watching the teen turn the corner before retreating further inside her shop.


	3. Nothing like a good cup of coffee

“Coffee, please. The biggest and darkest one you’ve got.”

Harry nearly did a double-take, unsure if the petite girl in front of her was serious or not. While she looked like she had seen much better days, a cup of coffee, especially hers, didn’t seem like the right way to go. Before she could even warn her about the aforementioned drink, she received a deadpan look and a sharp glare that promised pain if she didn’t comply. Not wanting to be the recipient of said anger, she immediately began pulling on some levers on her register, albeit reluctantly.

“Uh…okay then, one medium coffee–“

“You don’t have a large one?” The customer suddenly asked, cutting her off.

Harry shrugged, before giving a hesitant smile. “People don’t usually order–“

“Just make it large,” she sighed, cutting her off once again. Right as she said that, said customer seemed to flinch, as if realizing how rude she must’ve sounded this entire time. “Sorry. I just really need a coffee right now. Trust me.”

Harry nodded understandingly, pitying the poor girl a bit. She was tired and pretty determined to get her drink, so convincing her otherwise wasn’t going to work. Maybe she could entice her with a pastry instead. “Would you like anything from the case to go with it? The croissants just came out a minute ago.”

The tiny customer didn’t seem all that interested. Rather, she even looked a bit offended at the question.“No thanks.” she said tiredly, already fishing through her bag for some spare change. “I just need the coffee.”

“How about some cookies? Or a bagel? I’ve even got some danishes that should be out soon,” Harry tried again, a bit more desperate to get the girl to buy something else as well. She wasn’t even sure she had danishes, but she was willing to magically pop some out if it meant getting her to buy something with her coffee.

“Or even a chocolate bar? They’re just about to go on sale.” They really weren’t, but it wasn’t like anyone could correct her. She owned the place, after all.

When the customer shook her head, Harry sighed resignedly, knowing she’d lost the battle. “Just the coffee then.”

Once the payment was processed, she shooed the tired-looking brunette towards one of the chairs, promising to call her when she had her drink ready. With a tired mumble of ‘Jane’, the customer immediately bustled over to the chair, before nearly collapsing on the table.

’What is it with these people? Can’t even enjoy a good treat unless they have their coffee,’ Harry thought tiredly, no longer as determined to offer anything to the customer. At least she could honestly say that she tried if Peter asked. It wasn’t her fault if some customers were more interested in coffee rather than her baked goods.

A few minutes later, she had a warm paper cup in her hand and was just to cover it with a plastic cap when the bells chimed again. Seeing the familiar knitted hat, she couldn’t help but smile at the entrance of one of her favorite customers.

“Hey, Darcy! How are you?”

At her question, the intern groaned loudly, clearly a lot more exaggerated than usual. “Harry! It’s been too long!”

Harry laughed, fixing the cover on Jane’s drink before asking, “What’s it going to be this time? Blueberry muffins or the chocolate croissant?”

Darcy nearly squealed, “Aww, Harry! You know just how to make my day!” Without even giving a quick glance at the mentioned dishes in the case, she decided, “I’ll take both.”

“One muffin and one croissant, coming right up. Just let me give this order out before I get them for you,” she said, motioning at the drink in her hand. “Miss Jane? I have your drink ready!”

Said brunette bumbled over, growing more unsteady with each step. “Yeah, yeah, that’s me. Thanks. I really–Darcy?”

“Jane!” Darcy exclaimed, another bright grin forming on her face. She didn’t even wait for the tired brunette to reply before entwining their arms together in greeting. “What are you doing out of the lab? I thought you were with Erik working on your astro-whats-it-space conference.”

“Yeah, uh, we were. I mean, I was. Erik should be coming over later today for our final touches,” she answered lamely, eyes unfocused as she pat Darcy’s shoulder assuringly.

“Wait, but you told me you were both working on it until today, and that–“ Darcy’s eyes widened before squeezing Jane’s arm angrily. Jane didn’t even flinch as Darcy raised her voice. “You pulled another all-nighter!”

Jane smiled, almost dopily, as she tried to appease the shorter. “I’m perfectly fine, Darce. In tip-top shape. Ready for anything.”

Before Harry could comment on the clear lie, Jane’s eyes suddenly cleared, zeroing in on the cup in her hand.

“My coffee!” Jane immediately swiped the cup from her hands without warning. Already, Harry could see Darcy realizing the situation, trying to reach the cup before it could reach her friend’s lips.

“Miss Jane, there’s something I should tell you about–“

“Jane, I really don’t think you should drink–“

Their words died as Jane took a long slow sip. Harry didn’t really know what to say as she watched Darcy’s friend drink the muddy water. Darcy seemed just as shocked as her friend continued to down the caffeine-filled cup. Sharing unsure glances, Darcy decided to break the silence.

“Hey, Jane-y, are you okay?”

Jane merely hummed in reply, before downing even more of the coffee in her hand. After a few more large gulps, she gave a satisfied sigh. “Yeah. I’m perfectly fine. Just needed some coffee.”

“Do you feel any different?” Harry asked, drawing out the question slowly. “Perhaps a strange taste?”

“Any desires to puke your stomach out and wash your tongue with a toilet brush?” Darcy piped up.

Harry glanced at Darcy with narrowed eyes, only to earn a indignant snort. “It’s the truth!”

“What do you mean?” Jane asked, confused at their apprehensive questions. It seemed the coffee had given her a shot of energy, if only to realize the worry on both their faces. “I’m fine. Seriously. I’ve done all-nighters before.”

Darcy shook her head before giving an over-dramatized point at the coffee cup. Her finger was shaking as she pointed accusingly at the drink, as if it had done the entire world a crime. (Which it probably did, considering how many people were unfortunate enough to taste it.) “I meant the coffee, Jane. You just drank Harry’s coffee. And _lived_.”

Harry rolled her eyes. “My coffee isn’t that bad–“

Darcy coughed, cutting her off. “The last person who had your coffee literally puked on your floors. Twice.”

For a moment, Harry was grateful she wasn’t capable of blushing. Had she been able to, her cheeks would’ve been stained a dark red, no doubt reaching all the way to her toes. “I gave him bagels to make up for it,” she defended lamely. This only earned her another pointed look from the intern.

Jane harrumphed, clutching the cup protectively to her chest. “Well, I like it.” Harry didn’t know whether to be touched or fearful for the one customer who actually likes her coffee. While she didn’t like to think her coffee-making skills were that bad, even she wouldn’t drink her creation if given the chance.

Darcy looked at her friend, concern all over her face. “Jane, you’re technically drinking motor oil with shots of caffeine. Maybe you should just throw–”

Jane growled as Darcy attempted to reach for the cup, moving away from the intern’s arms. “My coffee. Mine.”

Darcy backed off, raising her arms resignedly. “Fine. Fine. Have your coffee.”

At her words, Jane’s shoulders relaxed. Without further prompting, Darcy decided to motion her towards the tables. “Why don’t you go back to the table while I grab us some snacks? I’ll even get something for Erik.”

Whatever energy she had gained from the few sips of coffee seemed to immediately dissipate, leaving the mumbly droopy-eyed scientist from earlier. Happy that there was no longer anyone threatening her prized liquid gold, Jane gave a few nods before shuffling back to her original table to enjoy her coffee in peace. Both Darcy and Harry could only watch as the brunette then carried on with downing the rest of the coffee as if she were dying of thirst.

“Will she get sick from…” Darcy didn’t have to finish her statement, Harry already knowing she was referring to the drink.

Harry shrugged, just as unsure. “I changed my recipe since last time, so that might be why she likes it. But, really, it shouldn’t have been enough to…”

Darcy nodded understandingly before turning to check on Jane. Both cringed as they watched the short scientist take another large gulp, tipping the cup all the way back to get every last drop. Immediately, Harry rushed to the counter, pushing at some buttons. “I’ll throw in some extra danishes. Just in case.”

“And mint tea. Two cups,” Darcy added, before glancing back at her friend. “Make that three.”

Just as Darcy was about to pay, Jane suddenly called out, “Hey Darce, can you get me another large cup of coffee?”

Darcy could only groan in despair. Harry gave her a questioning look, glancing at Jane who was now a lot more awake and clearly wanting more of her coffee. Darcy only nodded despairingly before handing over the proper amount of cash. “You’re lucky she has health insurance.”

Harry sighed, handing Darcy a small pile of coins. “If something serious happens, phone me. You have my number, right?”

“Yeah, yeah. No need to worry about me, of course,” she bemoaned, sarcasm lacing every word. “I’m just going to spend the next days carrying a bucket, smelling of vomit, carrying a sick Jane around, the usual. Not like–"

“Darcy!” Jane’s shrill voice cut her off. “Did you get my coffee!?”

Darcy sighed, not bothering to answer. “Alas. Her Majesty awaits.”

**Author's Note:**

> A chaptered version of my original "Shots with Potential" idea. Takes place in the MCU.  
> (More characters coming soon.)


End file.
